


Whiskey and rye

by Builder



Series: Missing Moments [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers Endgame, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, because it's endgame, everybody's going to die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 11:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: Based on the moment in the Endgame trailer where Steve has Peggy's picture in the locket.  Because we all know that needs correcting._____"What’s wrong?”  Nat shoots a glance to the dark clouds gathering outside the window.  “Now’s not the moment to keep secrets.”“What if I’d rather take it to my grave?”  Steve draws his fist up under his chin, the locket’s chain dangling between his knuckles.  He could hide it better if he tried.  He just isn’t sure he feels up to it anymore.“If you keep stalling, you just might.”Steve inhales sharply and curls in on himself.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I…”. He means to finish the sentence, but the last word dissolves between his throat and his lips.  He swallows hard.  “I know.”





	Whiskey and rye

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @builder051

Steve looks down at the curled metal edges of the locket, hating them almost as much as he hates himself.  The thing isn’t a heart, but it’s still meant to be a symbol of love.  The years of dents and scratches have perverted it, though.  Both the antique brass and the mass of sinew and muscle sitting heavily in his chest.  

“What’s that?” Nat asks, peering over his shoulder.  

“Nothing.”  Steve closes his fist.  The hinge digs into his palm.  It would hurt if he felt pain like a normal person.  He isn’t glad that he doesn’t.  The pain would make sense.  He would deserve it.  

“Bullshit.”

“Ok,” Steve acquiesces.  “Nothing important.”

“Hm.”  Nat takes the seat across from him.  “Still bullshit.”

Steve sighs.  “Can you just…let it alone?” He adds under his breath, “For once?”

“Well, if you aren’t Mr. Sunshine and Roses…” Nat laughs, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey, I’m serious.”  A note of melancholy imbues Steve’s voice.  He hopes Nat mistakes it for annoyance, but the slight wrinkle between her perfectly groomed brows destroys the possibility.  

Nat leans forward with her elbows on her knees.  “Hey,” she whispers.  “So am I.  What’s wrong?”  She shoots a glance to the dark clouds gathering outside the window.  “Now’s not the moment to keep secrets.”

“What if I’d rather take it to my grave?”  Steve draws his fist up under his chin, the locket’s chain dangling between his knuckles.  He could hide it better if he tried.  He just isn’t sure he feels up to it anymore.

“If you keep stalling, you just might.”

Steve inhales sharply and curls in on himself.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I…”. He means to finish the sentence, but the last word dissolves between his throat and his lips.  He swallows hard.  “I know.”  

The joints of his fingers go stiff under Nat’s glare, but eventually Steve unfurls his hand, catching the cool breeze against his sweaty palm.  “Here.  It’s just…”. He digs his thumbnail into the crevice between the petals of the locket.  “Here.”

Steve doesn’t watch Nat’s face.  He doesn’t watch Peggy’s behind the small panel of glass, either.  He feels the confusion in the air, though.  He can practically taste it.  

“Huh,” Nat finally says.  Her voice goes muffled as she presses the pads of her fingers to her lower lip.  “I mean, I know you loved her, but…”

Steve nods slowly and bites the inside of his cheek.  He makes a gesture for her to wait, ignoring how much his free hand is shaking.  Dislodging the thin sliver of glass wedged into the metal frame of the heart takes a tense moment, and it draws a drop of blood from his thumb.  When he pulls away to suck on the cut, Steve sets both the glass and Peggy’s picture on the seat beside him.  “It’s, um,” he starts, still unable to look at Nat.  The photograph jammed in beneath is yellowed with age and a touch blurry, but now Bucky’s eyes have Steve’s attention.

“I know,” Nat says quietly.  “About you.  And him.  I don’t know why it’s such a big thing to you.  A big secret, I mean.  It’s not like any of us have a problem with it.”

“Yeah.”  Steve shrugs.  “I didn’t figure any of you did.  I just… after all this time?  It doesn’t seem like the right moment to change the status quo.”

“You’re so old fashioned.”  Nat punches him gently on the shoulder, then seems to think better of it as she goes in with a flat palm, rubbing her thumb across Steve’s collarbone.

“I know, I know.”  The up-tightness, the secrecy surrounding his personal life, even the victorian curl of the locket itself.  He’s not from this century, and Steve won’t spend his last days pretending he’s acclimated.  “But it’s me, I guess.  And it’s him.”

Nat nods and gives a small smile.  “Yeah.”

“I just…” Steve tries again.  “I just… I can’t.”  Tears flood the corners of his eyes.  “And now he’s gone…” Steve’s voice breaks.  His head begins to throb, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, desperately searching for a shred of dignity and knowing there’s none to be found.

“It’s ok,” Nat murmurs, petting his shoulder again.  “No one expects you to.”

“If he were here—“ Steve swallows a sob.  “If he were here, he’d tell me not to worry about him.  To save as many people as possible, but not to worry about him.”

“And you’d do just the opposite,” Nat finishes knowingly.

“But I can’t.  All I can do now is listen to him.”  Steve wipes his eyes forcefully, gulping to keep the hysteria at bay.  

“It’s all any of us can do, now,” Nat says.  “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

“I’m not sure either.”  Steve gives Bucky a last long look, then snaps the locket shut.  “But we have to try.  I have to.  For him.”


End file.
